


In which Richelieu becomes little more than a glorified babysitter

by Theonenamedafterahat



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 06:51:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theonenamedafterahat/pseuds/Theonenamedafterahat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Treville, after getting himself injured in battle, requires someone to watch over the Musketeers for him while he recovers. Needless to say, his first choice does not welcome this responsibility.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which Richelieu becomes little more than a glorified babysitter

Standing in the rain, Richelieu sighed deeply. 

When the news that Captain Treville of the King’s Musketeers was injured had been delivered to him that morning, the messanger had been perhaps overly enthusiastic in making it clear to him that whilst this injury was serious, it was not fatal. He had however been obligated, by duty to the King and to France, to pay Treville a visit.

He had spent the rest of the day engaged in serious work for the King that could not have been put off for any reason, no matter what Milady de Winter had said when he called her to him. What did it matter if she thought that he had some measure of concern for Treville? It would have been…unfair…for him to keep his productivity at the high level he was acustomed to maintaining if Treville were unable. The game they have been playing was delicate, and might not have withstood without the two of them both up to full strength. And seeing as Richelieu was hardly going to stab himself through the leg, he’d had to even the scales some other way, which had been done by sending her away. 

An unforseen, yet not unwelcome, consequence of this delay was that he arrived at the barracks housing Treville after night had fallen. Unfortunately, night meant sleep. Specifically, it meant sleep for the Musketeers. At least, all Musketeers except the one currently keeping him from his appointment, making him stand out in the rain. 

"I have already given my reasons, now let me past." He said, attempting to avoid growling. From the look on the other man’s face, it seemed he was unsuccessful.

"And I have already told YOU, no one’s allowed to see the captain ‘til mornin’, physician’s orders."

It was most unlike Treville to allow Physicians to tend his wounds, and Richelieu said as much to the Musketeer.

"Well, as good as."

"Evening Cardinal." A familliar voice came from behind him, and Aramis came into view, leaning against the wall nonchanantly. "Let him in." He nodded the guard, who obediantly moved aside. "The Cardinal here has an appointment to keep."

"But I thought they hated each o-" Richelieu shut the door behind him firmly. 

"You were held up?" Treville enquired from his sickbed. 

"You could at least do me the courtesy of informing your Musketeers that I will be arriving. It’s the least you could do.”

'Ah, that's the least I could do? Well, I'll know next time.”

"It happens every time. And I always inform you, but despite my warnings you still choose to ignore the situation.”

He sat heavily in the chair beside the bed, taking the bottle of wine from the table and pouring generously into the cups that had been laid out. Treville took his with a wry smile, then winced as the movement agitated his wound. 

"I need a favour." He said, once they were both settled.

"Go on."

"As you’ve no doubt heard, I will be unable to command the regiment from my bed. Now there is a Captain Doujon coming in from one of the border garrisons, but I don’t - I mean - my men will not be in the best condition, and I would be grateful if you could watch over them, so to speak." 

"Well, let me think - no!’ Richelieu rose, cup in hand, and walked angrily to the other side of Treville’s (small) room. "I am a busy man, Captain. i do have work that must be done; my OWN work."

"Cardinal, I give you my word that it will NOT be the way it was last time."

"What, will you TELL the men this time?" Richelieu moved back to the disgarded chair. 

"I will. And I will make a point of telling them."

"Athos, Porthos and Aramis?"

"The very same." 

"God Lord Treville, whenever I think about those three I feel a headache coming on."

"You think of them often, then?" The Captain almost smiled. It had been a while since either two men were able to make the other smile out of anything other than politeness. 

"Have you taught them nothing?" Richelieu chose to ignore the previous remark. "To start with, Aramis - are there ANY women in Paris that he hasn’t been with?"

"I doubt it. And not just the women either."

'You think so?”

"You DON’T?"

"Well, you spend more time with him."

He sighed again; it seemed to be a night for sighing. “Athos - is he actually dead inside, or does he just believe himself to be? And Porthos…” 

"What did he do?"

"He encourages the other two." 

"…So you’ll do it, then?" 

"You’ll tell them what I’m doing?"

"And ruin your reputation?" Treville smirked.

Richelieu stood to leave, returning his cup and bottle to their former resting place.

"…That boy they’ve been taking everywhere these past few weeks. He is not part of the deal."

"Agreed." 

Leaving the room half-convinced that Treville was laughing silently at his retreating form, he fumed in silence. Yet more proof that the Musketeers were a danger to France, if their own commander could not leave them unsupervised for fortnight or less without some extra supervision. Now, his Red Guards on the other hand…

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an idea elroxy and I had on tumblr about Treville being the Musketeers Dad and Richelieu being their estranged step-mum who sometimes watches them with great reluctance: http://elroxy.tumblr.com/post/76437681599/mommyslittleteddykiller-elroxy-so-captain


End file.
